


breaking and rebuilding and growing (always guessing)

by ellievolia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Feelings, First Time, M/M, Slice of Life, going dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellievolia/pseuds/ellievolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson goes to a farm in Iowa; the rest of the team goes dark for a few days. Mack goes home to his Calabasas cottage, and he takes Fitz with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breaking and rebuilding and growing (always guessing)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bryony for the quick beta opinions and Lisa for the cheerleading and constant hand-holding. I needed a way to try and express my feelings about Mack and Fitz, and this is so far off from all the things I want to say, but got to start somewhere!
> 
> Feel free to give me all the concrit you wish to. If you want to do so privately, my email is ellievolia at gmail dot com.

“I’ve got to leave for a few days,” Coulson says to the team one morning. There’s something shifty in his body language, like he’s got yet another secret to keep, but it’s not Mack’s place to ask. He’s learnt a long time ago that asking too many questions leads to broken bones, and broken hearts.

Skye, however, doesn’t care. Mack has yet to see her ever back down; got to give her credit, she’s either not afraid of anything, or she hides it extremely well. “Where are you going? When will you be back?”

It’s not like they haven’t been doing fine while Coulson was flying all over the planet to try and recruit more agents, but Skye, man. 

Coulson sighs. “I’m going to Iowa. There are some pressing matters at hand and I think while they’re being resolved, the rest of you should lay low and go dark.”

“Can we not help?” 

Mack is pretty sure that most employees, when given leave, take it happily. And yet here they are, asking if they can put themselves in danger, to help. He’s not going to deny it, it’s an addiction.

Coulson smiles a little. “Don’t worry, there is plenty of help. I need you to stay safe,” he ends with, giving Skye a pleading look. She seems ready for a fight, but doesn’t say anything further.

Mack is already planning his exit route. 

;;

For about 5 seconds, Mack thinks about going back on his own. He thinks of long, quiet days in the Californian heat, but then his eyes meet Fitz’, and his plans change. 

Truth be told, Mack has no idea if Fitz doesn’t have his own house somewhere. He’s going on a hunch - tiny genius awkward boy that had been in the Academy for most of his life, he probably doesn’t even know how to do laundry. 

Maybe he’s going to go with Simmons, or maybe he would have, before, a year ago. But now, Mack’s not so sure. She’s been back for weeks already, and yet Mack has never seen her in the lab, the dark corners in which Fitz likes to hide.

After Coulson’s little speech, Mack finds Fitz in the lab, as usual, rifling through drawers. “Hey, Fitz,” Mack says, announcing himself before he gets too close. 

Fitz barely avoids banging his head against his desk when looks up. “Huh.”

Mack bites down on his smile. “Where are you going to go?” 

The thing Mack’s learnt quickly working alongside Leo Fitz, is that running circles around the point doesn’t really work. Mack has hardly ever been anything but blunt, but he doesn’t even have to try with Fitz. They get each other, from mechanics to this newfound level of care they have for each other. 

Fitz shrugs, “I was going to - to stay here,” he replies, scratching the back of his head. 

“Wanna go away instead?” 

Fitz smiles. “Yeah.”

;;

Mack owns a small cottage in Calabasas, and he sees it approximately twice a year. It’s a neat little place, thanks to Julia the cleaner, who comes in once a week to pick up Mack’s mail and dust around the place. 

A long time ago, he thought maybe he’d have a future in that house. Now, it’s more storage than anything else, shit piling up everywhere that he never has time to sort through. 

Fitz toes off his shoes as soon as they hit the house’s deck. Mack can’t blame him, it’s his favorite part of the house. The wood is rough, needs sanding and some staining, but it gets sun-warm and it creaks pleasantly underfoot. 

Mack follows Fitz around as he discovers the house, running his fingers along the walls, making small sounds of surprise or appreciation from time to time. After he’s seen everything, he stands by the French doors leading to the deck. “Well,” he says, and Mack raises an eyebrow.

“Does it pass?” Mack asks, smiling to himself. 

Fitz turns to look at Mack, like he’s forgotten he was even there. It just makes Mack smile wider. “Oh! It’s very nice, actually. I didn’t - didn’t expect that, I guess.”

Mack crosses his arms over his chest. “You thought I lived in a garage?”

Fitz rolls his eyes, chuckles. “No,” he replies. “Just. Less...homey.”

“What about you? You said you were planning to stay on base - nowhere to go?”

Fitz shakes his head, going to sit on one of the deck chairs. He still looks tense, but hopefully after a few days of quiet, he’ll unwind. “Not especially, no. Nothing like this.”

Mack nods, even though Fitz is not looking at him. “Well, you’re welcome here anytime.”

;;

Mack wakes up in the middle of the night, because there’s someone in bed with him. He tenses for a second before his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness and he recognizes Fitz’ shape, curled by Mack’s side, a breath away from touching him. 

His eyes are bright. “Can’t sleep. I’ve got this - I take pills to sleep, back on base.”

“You didn’t pack them?”

“No, no, I did!” Fitz sounds offended by the question, like he would forget something so essential to his well-being. “I don’t want to take them,” he says softly, his eyes turned away from Mack’s, his fingers picking at invisible threads on the comforter.

“Okay?” Mack asks, feeling out that Fitz has more on his mind to say, but not wanting to push him.

“I just want some, some control back. I want to - make an informed decision, about my health, make the choice myself.”

Mack frowns, unsure where this is going, but Fitz just continues talking, and Mack doesn’t interrupt. Fitz interrupts himself enough as it is. 

“I, I want - do you mind if I stay?” Fitz asks finally, turning his eyes up to meet Mack’s. 

“‘Course not,” Mack replies immediately, and Fitz relaxes. 

It takes a while for Mack to fall back asleep, but when he does, it’s to the feeling of Fitz’ breaths against his shoulder blade.

;;

Fitz has gone through some shit, Mack knows that. He stands in the kitchen, looking out the window while the coffee maker gurgles happily next to him, and he doesn’t question that. 

He also doesn’t question that trying to help Fitz through all of it has been some of the most rewarding work Mack has ever taken on. It’s not even a mission, it’s something that Mack found himself drawn to, something he wants to do. Usually he likes mechanics better than people, but in that he and Fitz find harmony. Mack is happy to let Fitz bounce ideas off him until they settle in his head, and he knows it helps Fitz. 

If somewhere along the way Fitz has found Mack as someone more than a replacement for Simmons, Mack is glad. Somewhere along the way, Mack has fallen a little in love with Fitz, and he’s okay with that. 

;;

“My God,” Mack hears Fitz say, and he cracks open an eye, looking over his shoulder. Fitz is just standing on the deck, in jeans and a plain white tee, and he’s looking at Mack hard enough it almost makes Mack blush.

“What?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun. 

“You - you are a - a ridiculous human being,” Fitz says too fast, like he’s grabbing the words and throwing them at Mack before they go away. “You are very attractive,” he adds after a moment, cheeks pink. 

Sometimes, being around Fitz is like getting punched in the gut, for Mack. Because Fitz will come out with something, and it’ll be absolutely genius, and sometimes he’ll just say something innocent and every time, it winds Mack all the same. 

“I’m sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have said that, it’s just that I - I - I struggle enough and I don’t want to - to -” Fitz stops, looking frustrated, hands in his hair. Mack stands up slowly from the deck chair and pulls on the shirt he’d thrown off earlier, walking closer to Fitz. 

“Miss out?” he asks softly, looking straight at Fitz. Fitz’ hands drop, and he nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, that.”

Mack takes a beat to gather his thoughts, and then he nods, reaching out to circle Fitz’ wrist with two fingers. “You do realize my helping you isn’t entirely selfless, right?” he asks, because he’s honestly not sure. For a guy as intelligent as Fitz is, he’s really oblivious at times. 

“I - I wasn’t sure but I thought - maybe -”

Mack smiles. “Yeah. I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Fitz swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, but he nods, looking eager. He meets Mack halfway, clumsy, his fingers digging into Mack’s biceps as he rolls up to his toes. Fitz kisses with youthful enthusiasm, smiling against Mack’s lips, and he allows Mack to tilt his chin, change the angle until it’s perfect.

It’s good - it’s softer and more hesitant than Mack is used to, but it’s good, it’s right, it’s _great_. When they pull away, Fitz lets out a breath and a chuckle, resting his forehead against Mack’s collarbone. 

“Yeah,” Fitz whispers, fingers tracing patterns on Mack’s forearms.

;;

“You’re not doing this right,” Fitz says, grinning as he pushes at Mack’s shoulder, flicking the screwdriver off his ear and straight into the gravity stabilizer that Mack had brought back from base to fix. 

“Yeah, well, you can’t grill a steak to save your life,” Mack retorts, and Fitz sticks his tongue out at him, still looking amused. It’s good to see Fitz relaxed - he’s always so tense while on base, constantly on the edge of trying to fit in and wanting to be left alone. Here he can take his time to listen to himself, with no crisis and Mack on hand when he needs, or wants him to be. 

Surprisingly, it works. Mack thinks sometimes that maybe he should be wanting something more, or something different, but he likes Fitz. He likes his company, and how much of a dick he can be, how funny and smart he is. There is a lot about Leo Fitz that makes Mack feel like he’s pretty fucking lucky.

;;

Mack cooks; Fitz does the dishes afterwards, standing barefoot in the kitchen while Mack watches, considering how he could completely rebuild the whole room. They talk - movies they’ve seen, books they’ve read, foods they prefer. 

There’s a wet line at sink level on Fitz’ shirt, and Mack’s nose feels warm from the sun they’ve been basking in all day. Fitz seems to have more freckles dusted over his forehead already.

The conversation flows easily, Fitz’ aphasia barely even stopping him from rambling on about Inception and its plot holes and how much he likes the movie anyway. Mack talks about the smell of spices he loves best, the ones that remind him of his grandmother’s house, when she’d let him grind them.

They settle on the deck afterwards and keep at it; the lack of urgency helping the mood. They drink beer and Mack laughs at Fitz for having set fire to pasta when he was a kid, but gets Fitz to laugh back at him when Mack tells him about that time where he watched any and all musicals he could get his hands on. Which, as it goes, means then they can have a debate on whether the Sharks or the Jets were the best.

The evening has a rare quality to it; it’s not devoid of tension, phones could start ringing any time, but they’re content ignoring it. There’s no noise besides their quiet conversation and the forest around them, mosquitoes buzzing around there, going to burn up against the incandescent light of the outdoor floodlight. When Mack looks around, it’s like time is standing still.

Maybe it’s just because he wants it to be.

;;

It’s Fitz that makes the next move. For the second night in a row, he crawls in next to Mack in bed, but this time he doesn’t stop at just fitting himself along Mack’s back. He doesn’t say anything, kisses Mack with a hand curled around Mack’s neck; Mack can feel it trembling, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pulls Fitz closer gently, but he lets Fitz set the pace, tasting mint when Fitz licks at his lips. 

“Alright?” Mack asks once Fitz pulls away, his hand feeling heavy on Mack’s chest, keeping him upright. 

“Yeah,” Fitz says, his eyes traveling all over Mack’s frame. He looks like he wants to say more, maybe a lot more. He settles for, “You want this, right?” 

And Mack does. He nods, perfectly happy to leave Fitz in control. “Yeah. Do you?”

Fitz groans, kisses Mack briefly, like he’s emboldened by Mack’s affirmation. “God yes, I do.”

They take their time with it. Fitz is enthusiastic, even if he doesn’t try to hide his inexperience; he looks uncertain when Mack undresses him but it’s only passing, a moment before he does the same to Mack, which seems enough for him to forget about his inhibitions. Or maybe it’s the way Mack is looking at him; he’s pretty sure he’s staring at Fitz, transfixed. He looks stronger than Mack expected, and Mack wants to count all the freckles that speckle Fitz’ skin.

Later, Fitz rides Mack, fingers tangled with Mack’s as he moves slow and steady, rolling his hips into the exact rhythm and position he wants, his mouth falling open on a silent moan. He’s breathtaking in how breathless he is, and Mack couldn’t look away if the world was falling apart around them. 

There’s a breeze coming from the open window, the smell of the forest blending with clean sweat and a hint of laundry detergent. It shouldn’t be any kind of heady mix but Mack takes stock of it, adds to the memories - he doesn’t know how many times he’s going to get to have this, to have Fitz like this. 

They keep on laughing throughout - Fitz almost falls over at some point and bursts into laughter, holding on by clamping his hands on Mack’s sides. “Such a klutz,” he whispers between chuckles, but sobers up when he leans down to kiss Mack, grinning into it.

Mack comes first, digging his fingers into Fitz’ side for a moment, feeling like his spine is electrified. He shivers, pushing himself up on one trembling arm to kiss Fitz, free hand coming up to card through Fitz’ messy curls. 

He can feel Fitz’ fingers wrapped around his own cock, and he wants to help but he’s less than coordinated and he’d risk a whole lot of embarrassing injuries if he moves right now - he ends up not even having to, anyway, because Fitz comes moments later, all over Mack’s chest, messy and loud. 

They end up in a pile of limbs in the middle of Mack’s bed, Mack laughing when Fitz attempts to tickle him.

“You don’t have any weaknesses,” Fitz says, sounding annoyed as he pokes Mack’s sides ineffectually, making Mack laugh harder. 

“I do, Leo. I have plenty of them,” Mack replies, after a while. Next to him, Fitz is snoring lightly.

;;

Being on forced leave doesn’t change Mack’s routines; having Leo in bed with him just makes him linger a little while longer than usual, but once he’s up, he’s up. He puts coffee on and walks out onto the deck, taking care of the empties they left strewn around.

When the space is cleaned up, he settles for some yoga, going through the movements slowly, staying in position for as long as possible. Warrior Two is one of those he tries to hold on, allowing his muscles to elongate and warm up, get used to the poses. After twenty minutes or so, he sits on the deck, legs crossed, and tilts his head up to the morning sunshine. 

It’s still a little damp, the morning fog clinging to the trees surrounding Mack’s cottage, and it smells clean and fresh, a new day. Mack lets everything fill out of his head, lets thoughts come and go unrestricted, focuses on his body, his breathing, the sweat on his skin cooling down, the weight of his limbs. 

He listens to birds waking up and singing to one another, he listens to Leo grumbling to himself in the kitchen, howling when he - presumably - stubs his toe against something. Slowly, he brings himself back to the moment, going through a mental check of his extremities, limbs and muscles, before opening his eyes again, raising his arms over his head in a long, satisfying stretch.

Leo groans from behind him, and then Mack feels a toe poking at his back. “Morning, Leo,” he says, looking over his shoulder.

“You’re one of these irritating morning people, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Mack says brightly, standing up. “You left me any coffee?”

Leo’s frown softens, and he nods. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Thanks,” Mack says, and kisses the corner of Leo’s mouth when he walks past him. 

;;

Mack tries to ignore the clock ticking on his and Leo’s time away from SHIELD. Their lounging around is making them both restless, though, it’s obvious - inactivity isn’t something they’re used to, or very good at.

Which is why, Mack guesses, Leo drags him to bed at 2pm on their third day at his cottage and, with single-minded focus, proceeds to try and make Mack lose his mind entirely. Leo has boundless energy and enthusiasm when it comes to sex and learning exactly what to do to drive Mack right out of his mind. Mack may not be as young as Leo, but he can give back as good as he’s getting, and trying to suck Leo’s brains right out of his cock is an exercise Mack tasks himself to with no reservations. 

They’re not quiet about it; Leo is about just as bossy in the bedroom as he is in the lab, but he laughs more. He’s not stingy with his kisses or his attention, almost overwhelming in how focused on Mack he is. 

Mack catalogues the different ways Leo smiles. 

;;

Mack lies awake at night, looking up at the ceiling, his fingers carding through Leo’s curls. Leo’s using Mack’s chest as a pillow, breathing steady as he sleeps, a live blanket wrapped around Mack. 

Mack should probably worry about how quickly he’s grown attached to Leo, but he’s not - right now he’s just determined to make the most of it before their lives come crashing back into them. It’s a good feeling, to have the space and time to grow into their feelings right now, maybe it’ll help them in the longer run. 

Maybe they’ll crash and burn the second hey get back to base. Mack’s willing to see it through.

;;

The next morning, they drive off to the beach. Leo fills a jar with golden-colored sand, and keeps his hands wrapped around it like it’s a special treasure. They eat quesadillas from a food truck near the beach, grease and cheese dripping from their fingers and burning the top of their mouths.

“So what are your - weaknesses?” Leo asks later as Mack digs his toes into the sand. He honestly thought that Leo didn’t hear him say anything about that the other night. 

Mack looks up at the ocean and the calming ebb and flow of the waves. “I’m too blunt for a lot of people,” he starts with, and he’s about to go on when Leo interrupts.

“I think that’s good.”

Mack chuckles. “Yeah, you would. I can’t - I just don’t make a very good field Agent, for SHIELD. I’m not discreet enough, and missions gone awry will haunt me. Still do,” he finished softly, so as to not tell Leo he’s a weakness, too, a soft spot anyone can push at and get Mack to break. 

Leo lets out a breath. “You don’t think you’re good enough,” he says, almost too fast for Mack to understand. 

Mack shrugs. “I’m happy with where I ended up,” he says, and Leo nods. 

“Me too,” Leo says quietly, and leans his shoulder against Mack’s.

;;

There are rumbles, the outside world making its way in their bubble of calm of quiet. Mack feels like it’s too early, but he can’t push the whispers away forever; they’re going to have to face them sooner rather than later.

It’s not that Mack expected them to be on a vacation for weeks, but longer than four days would have been nice. Of course, when the phone call from Bobbi comes and she tells him he’s needed back on base, Mack is not surprised. He hangs up to the sight of Leo walking out of the kitchen and leaning against the wall.

“Skye just called me,” he says, and Mack nods. He’s still warm, between the shoulder-blades, from the sun beating down on them at the beach earlier.

“Yeah, Bobbi called me, too.”

Leo rubs his foot against his ankle. “So I guess that’s - that’s it, huh?”

“Does it have to be?”

Leo shrugs. He looks uncomfortable - Mack knows talking about his feelings isn’t something that Leo is well acquainted with. 

“Over there, it’s not -” Leo pauses, fingers moving by his mouth as he tries to find his words. “It’s not quiet. It’s madness, and people are always….everywhere,” he says, resting his knuckles against his lower lip. 

“We’ll make time, and space. If you want to.”

;;

The day after they come back to base, Mack finds two boxes tucked into a corner of his room. Both boxes are labelled ‘Leo’. On top of them sits, proudly, the gravity stabilizer they fixed together while in California, and the jar of sand that Leo filled at the beach.

Mack smiles, and puts both of them on the shelf over his bed.

;;

The end


End file.
